


Make It So

by Merfilly



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Authority Figures, Community: kink_bingo, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-25
Updated: 2010-06-25
Packaged: 2017-10-10 06:47:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/96800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An anonymous encounter on the observation deck is a test of discipline</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make It So

Always rules, for every situation in life. The rules here are disturbingly simple. Be still. Be quiet. Keep eyes on the starfield through the observation windows. There can be no deviation, or the broken rules will be cause for a break in all they share. He is strict, knows his mind, and his partner is expected to meet a high standard.

He moves behind his partner, one hand resting on the shoulder, eyes looking at the ghostly reflection superimposed on the observation window. It's soothing, a dichotomy of human and exploring soul. The thrum of the engines are in the soles of his feet, and his hands grounded on the reality of another human, drawn like himself, into space.

The other hand slides low, down over muscles pulled taut with anticipation. It feels the cloth separating touch from skin, but the muscles are there. The muscles are fit and staying that way as an offering to physical aesthetics. The hand encounters different material, and a near soundless moan escapes lips that had parted with a wish for more. The moving hand hesitates, and his partner draws on reserves to insure that the quiet is maintained.

Bit by bit, the hand dips lower, exploring the coarser texture of the pants, feeling the ridge of sharper bones. Back and forth, not yet dipping down into territory made dangerous by arousal, the hand moves slowly, fanning heated flames. It takes so much control to remain perfectly still, to let the touch be the sole factor of sensation, and he is pleased by the display of discipline.

A gliding caress down, and his partner all but shudders in joy and need at finally being touched there. He continues, fingers manipulating through heavy cloth, touching and caressing. Sensitive flesh reacts so predictably, stimulated by knowing caresses despite the fabric that blunts the full effect. It adds a maddening level of frustration, yet the texture of cloth adds to the stimulation itself, as he well knows.

Everything builds, breathing growing labored and the stars draw his eyes. His beloved stars shining in on them as he continues, following his rules. Never drawn fully into the encounter, weighted to the matters of humanity by exerting this influence over another, but soaring on stellar levels that fulfill him in other ways. His partner is not quite silent, but the small gasps of breath, the hitched, throat-locked keens so close to inaudible that he allows the infraction.

There is so much control over his partner, who aches and fights to not thrust into that merciless touch. The rules are followed as closely as they can be in this encounter, before he breathes three little words across the ear of his partner. On command, all control shatters, the body giving way to paroxysms of delight and sensation entwined in the brink of oblivion. The steadying hand on a shoulder remains, as the teasing, caressing hand stills completely.

After, as breathing is returned to normal patterns, the two review their ghostly reflection on the starfield. There is a sense of calm in both of them, one for being controlled, and the other for having granted it to another.

Later, perhaps, there will be other meetings. But for now, his partner takes the calm of the moment and slips away.


End file.
